Waited On Return
by Verg-Now
Summary: ambiguous story of waiting on the cusp of an arrival...


Harry had known this occasion was imminent, but he had never let himself dwell on it; imagine what it would be like, how he would feel. He was certainly sure he would not have pictured it like this.

He was sitting in the chair furthest away from the door, pushed back from the table. He felt it gave him some slight advantage in that he could see everyone the moment they stepped thorough the doorway, getting a look at them before they took him in_. This is what the situation has made me,_ he thought, _I'm doubting those I know are on my side_. Ginny's cough to the left of him snapped him out of his reverie. She had walked straight to the seat at his side upon entering, no hesitation, but no glance in his immediate direction either. He let himself look at her for the first time since they had arrived. Her long auburn hair was just how he remembered it, albeit somewhat more half hazard. Their message had come only an hour ago, and it was now late at night, no time was spared for vanity. She sighed delicately and her hand went up to brush a strand of lone hair from her face, before resting again in her lap. She gave a meaningful look to the man across the table from her and he gave a slight jerk of the head in return and mouthed something back at her. She then sat back in her chair, apparently satisfied with the answer she gained. He had always been envious of the bond she shared with her several siblings, being an only child himself. One look and she had conveyed her entire feelings, and her brother had understood her. He often wished that he had that. Sometimes he found it too hard to explain just what he was feeling. He wished someone just _knew._

He looked back up at Ginny's profile. She looked so similar to the time they spent that summer, yet there was something behind her eyes that was unfamiliar, a steely determination he had not thought she had contained all that time ago. He was almost certain it was mostly due to Ron's long absence. He hated the fact that she had been forced to change, but there was nothing he could do about it. Not yet at least.

His eyes left her face as he heard heavy footsteps in the corridor outside, followed by the door swinging open with a whoosh of air, and Kingsley strolling in.

"Another group are meant to arrive shortly, but Albus won't say who. They're from outside the country I think, I heard them discussing the passageways times" he said to the room as a whole. His eyes lingered on Harry, "doesn't want to give anything away, it's not set in stone yet"

Molly scoffed, "He's not giving anything away. We've come all this way and no one's told us anything"

"We need everyone here before we can call an official meeting, you know that. Nothing we say can leave this building afterwards. This isn't some sort of drill; we need to be organised and diligent. So stop acting as if were messing around with you and you want to get home"

"Did I ever say that? I think you should-"

"Molly, stop." Arthur interrupted before she could properly retort. Harry was glad of the conversation to be honest. It was too quiet in the room; everyone was being to gloomy make small talk. If they were going to do this, they could at least try to make the atmosphere more jovial. Even Fred and George were being solemn, and they were notorious for their rather inappropriate outbursts and wisecracks. The times they were in was affecting everyone.

But they settled back into silence, wrapped up in their own thoughts, with only the occasional whisper and murmur. He had no idea how much time had passed, the muffled tocks of the grandfather clock in a nearby room blending into one another.  
>Outside the room there was suddenly the loud clunk of the front door being thrown open and a wave of voices followed as people moved over the threshold. He immediately sat up straight, alert. The people around the table sat with baited breath until Bill jumped up, scraping back his chair and strolling to the door and out into the corridor. Harry could picture him standing with his back to the separating wall, looking over the banister that gave way to the grand foyer. He could imagine the new arrivals standing in the open wooden hall, off which many rooms and corridors came. Harry had been a regular in this building for several months over his life, but he was still prone to get lost if he ventured away from the comfort of the main and habitable rooms.<p>

The image in his head was broken when they heard the sudden yelp of joy from Bill, and saw his body flash past the open door as he ran to the staircase at the right of the landing. As the sounds of him thundering down the steps emerged, the habitants of the room arose from their seats to see what the commotion was about. Harry realised the downside of his position in the room as he manoeuvred his way out to the corridor and moved to hold the banister looking out at the scene before him. Bill had his arms thrown around one of the callers, a man, and was laughing as he embraced the stranger. All he could make out was a mop of red hair next to Bill's ginger head. He heard the choked outburst from one of his accompaniers at the top of the stairs. The strangers hand was still held loosely in the one of the woman next to him. Harry turned to look at her properly and his breath caught. Her hair was a dark brown, and hung in curls around her flushed face. She was slim and dressed in jeans and a long, green top, and even in the harsh light of the torch brackets he could tell that her skin had darkened, tanned by the weather of wherever they had taken up residence these past few years. She was nodding and hurriedly replying to the question of the man that had accompanied the duo in, a member he had seen before but never spoken too. He tore his gaze away as Bill released the man of his hold and stood back to look at him from arm's length, giving the group a clear view. He was stockier than Harry recalled, his shoulders were broader and he looked more comfortable in his own skin. Less of the lankier and awkward teenager he had once been. He had a checked shirt on under a jacket and his face was adorned with a layer of stubble, making him seem older than he knew he was. But yet he still looked the same, despite his appearance overhaul; his eyes gave him away. The man was finishing saying something to Bill, who stepped out of the way so that they could all move forward, allowing the door to be closed. The woman turned to look up to the first floor, and directly into his eyes, letting out something that was a mix between a sigh and chuckle as she smiled up at him, amused at his wonderment.

"You alright mate?" the red-haired man called up at him. He had a different accent now, was that American?

"I-I don't..uhh..I don't think I've ever been better!" he choked out.

Ron immediately gave him a lopsided grin and let out a loud, wholly familiar laugh, pulling Hermione in front of him and wrapping his arms around her shoulders.

His two best friends were back.


End file.
